Imagination
by Potato19
Summary: After the Final Battle, the Wizarding World is left to mourn for their fallen friends and family. Feeling as if they're imposing on the Burrow, Harry and Hermione take their leave and embark on their own recovery: with each other. Written in 3 Parts.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Harry Potter Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

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AN: This story is short, and written in three parts.

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 **I**

It was Hermione Granger who first suggested that they go to Grimmauld Place. Harry Potter was inclined to agree with her. When wasn't he? It was plain to see that the two of them were no longer wanted at the Burrow. It wasn't that anything was said explicitly but Harry and Hermione could feel it. No words of 'Go away' or 'Leave' were uttered, but they were heard in every grunt or half-response.

Every step they took in the house felt like an insult of some sort. They just didn't belong, and it was time that they did something about it.

"Tomorrow?" Harry asked, looking at her as they sat side by side on the couch. They were alone in the living room, Hermione pretending to read a book and Harry merely watching her. It was his favourite thing to do, now that the War was over. She was proof that it was all over; that they'd survived. They'd won.

"Tonight," she said, glancing at him.

"Say goodbye?" he asked.

"What's the point?"

"Should I pack?"

Hermione glanced down at her lap where her ever-present bag sat, and Harry grinned at her.

"What would I ever do without you?"

Hermione finally gave up on her book, closed it and put it aside before she looked at him, giving him her full attention. "Are you going to talk to Ginny?"

"Are you going to talk to Ron?"

She sighed. "I think that they both made it pretty clear that we're not family," she said. "And I know that they're mourning, and I know I shouldn't take it so personally, but I do. Don't you?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm used to this, Hermione. Being ignored and blamed, being abandoned; I've been dealing with it my entire life."

Hermione reached for his closest hand. "I'll never leave you, Harry," she said strongly. "I already told you I'd go with you."

He squeezed her hand. "We should go now," he said, standing up. "I don't want to be here any more than they want us here." He helped her to her feet and she slipped on her shoes.

"Do you think Kreacher will be there?" Hermione asked as they walked out the back door of the Burrow. "Is it odd that I find that I miss him?"

Harry chuckled, though it never once reached his eyes. "Merlin, I think he might croak and die if he ever knew," he said, linking their arms as they walked away from the house. "If he's not there, he'll be at Hogwarts."

"The little warrior."

Harry led them far enough from the house so that they were out of the Apparation wards. They stopped and turned to look at the house one last time.

"Do you think we'll ever be back here?" Hermione asked, a hint of sadness in her tone.

"I do," he said, even though he wasn't entirely sure. "It's just hard for them right now."

"We lost people too," she pointed out.

"But not family," Harry said, as if it made all the difference. Harry had already lost all his family before the War even started.

Hermione looked up at him, absently squeezing his arm. "We should go," she said softly. Then, without waiting for a response, she Apparated the both of them away from the place they'd both once called home.

Grimmauld Place was dark and dreary but it felt like the place they had to be. Nothing was expected of them and they didn't have to tiptoe around. It would just be Harry and Hermione, and Kreacher.

Harry called for the little elf as soon as they arrived and the aging creature was a little too happy to see his Master and his Master's friend. It still looked physically painful for Kreacher to be civil to Hermione but he was much better at it now. Hermione even gave him a hug, which had the elf cowering.

"Hermione," Harry said, a tired smile on his face. "Leave the poor elf alone."

She blushed. "Sorry."

Kreacher dusted himself off once Hermione released him. "Would Master like dinner?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Umm, maybe later, Kreacher," Harry said. "Do you mind making up our rooms?" Harry paused, glancing at Hermione. "Actually, do you think you could set up blankets in the library for us?"

"Right away," Kreacher said, before he popped away.

Hermione looked at Harry questioningly.

He merely shrugged.

"I don't want to be alone either," she said, proving just how well she knew him. "I've been having nightmares."

"I know just the cure for nightmares," he said, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Probably not."

"What the hell."

And so, less than an hour later, Harry and Hermione found themselves spread out on the floor of the library, with an almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey between them. They were laughing at nothing in particular, but it just felt so good to laugh out loud. Harry couldn't even remember the last time he'd laughed and not felt guilty over it.

Harry was vaguely aware of Kreacher bringing them something to eat and he could probably recall eating some of it but it was the sound of their laughter he would always remember. Hermione's sounded musical as it hung in the air, filling his ears. Her eyes were even shining and she looked younger than she'd looked in years. She didn't look like she'd just been through a War, and that was all that Harry wanted for her.

Hermione passed out first, whether it was from the alcohol or exhaustion, Harry would never know. She looked so peaceful and he couldn't help but just sit and watch her. She was proof that they had won. She was right here with him, sleeping soundly, _breathing_. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't his imagination.

Eventually, Harry's eyes grew tired as well. He downed the rest of the alcohol, feeling it burn his throat, and then he crawled across the floor towards Hermione. Without waking her, he draped a light blanket over her small frame and shifted some hair out of her eyes.

"We're going to be okay, Hermione," he whispered before he settled in beside her. He wanted to be close enough to touch her without actually having to touch her. "You'll see." And then he was asleep.

Harry's nightmares involved dragons and fire and a Hermione screaming in pain. He could handle dragons and fire but never the sound of Hermione in pain. Never her pain.

He woke with a start to find that it was still pitch black outside. He'd thrashed about a bit but Hermione was still in the position he'd left her, perfect and untouched. He selfishly wanted to wake her up so that he could talk to her but he didn't. He just used the sight of her to calm his racing heart and help him get back to sleep.

The next time Harry woke up, Hermione had moved. She had rolled away from him, onto her back, but her left hand was stretched out towards him, her fingers warm on his neck. It was still dark outside and Harry felt like he'd had enough sleep but his eyes felt heavy. It was probably the hangover.

When Harry woke up for the last time, Hermione had moved once more. This time, she rolled back towards him, a little too far, and her hair was tickling his nose. He was breathing her in, merely further proof of their victory.

Harry lay completely still until she started to wake up, shifting against him. Her first groan made him smile and when she all but swore bloody murder, he had to laugh. Slowly, gingerly, she rolled away from him, keeping her eyes closed.

"I am never letting you convince me to drink that much ever again," she muttered, bringing her fingers up to her temples and rubbing circles against her skin. "I don't even have the will to open my eyes. How bright is it?"

"Wimp."

Hermione rolled over to face him, and opened one eye at a time. "I hate you," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at the morning light.

Harry brushed some hair off her face. "Did you have any nightmares?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I, uh, I can't remember."

He smirked. "Is that so?"

She smiled warmly. "Okay, I totally take it back. I don't hate you; I love you."

Harry just stared at her. The ease at which the words had rolled out of her mouth gave him pause. He knew she didn't mean it _that_ way but it forced him to face the fact that, given everything, it could one day be an option for them.

"What time is it?" she asked, yawning.

"I have no idea."

"We don't have to care, do we?" she asked, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "I mean, we could literally lie here all day and nobody would care, right?"

"I wouldn't."

She rolled back onto her back and brought the blanket up and over her face. She groaned. "Oh Harry, what on earth are we doing with our lives?" she asked the blanket, her voice slightly muffled.

He used his hand to move the blanket away so he could see her. "I, for one, am quite keen to do nothing."

"But for how long? And, can you honestly say that you'd be happy doing that, even for a little while?"

"Please don't make me make a decision right now," he said, his voice barely audible.

She rolled onto her side again, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "I don't intend to make you do anything, Harry Potter," she said warmly. "But you have to know that we won't be able to hide in here forever."

"Not forever," he agreed.

"But long enough to recover."

Neither of them knew how long that would take and, frankly, neither seemed to care. Slowly, their days started to blend into one. Kreacher fed them, they read and they talked, about the War and about life. They received no word from any of the Weasleys and they both came to accept it for what it was.

For Harry's birthday, they ventured into Muggle London, deciding to watch a film at the cinema and have dinner at a restaurant. It was odd being out and about but they'd both decided it was time to see people other than each other. Not that they were ever separated for more than a few minutes. They even spent a few hours shopping. Hermione insisted on finding him a birthday present, but Harry told her that she was more than enough.

Harry loved it when she blushed. It made him feel as if he'd accomplished something.

It was later that evening, when they were lying side by side on their makeshift bed on the floor of the library that Hermione first mentioned her parents.

"I wanted to be ready," she informed him. "I didn't want to go and find them and be broken and a shell of myself. I think I'm ready now, Harry."

He sat up so he could look at her properly. "When do you want to go?" he asked. There was no need to query whether she was sure or not. He knew her well enough to know that she had spent days going over her decision. She was ready.

Hermione also sat up. "Monday night."

"By plane or Portkey?"

"Plane," she answered easily. "I'm not ready for the Ministry just yet."

Harry had to agree with that. He wasn't ready for the Ministry either, and he sure as hell wasn't ready for Hogwarts. Though, from the way he'd noticed Hermione's revising, he suspected that she was. That was a conversation for another time.

"Should I pack?" he asked teasingly, smirking slightly.

She swatted his arm before lying back down. "Old habits die hard, Potter," she said, sighing. "I'll always be packed and ready to go."

"Have you still got the tent in there?" he asked, referring to her bag.

She nodded.

Harry also lay back down, turning onto his side so he could look at her. "One day, you and me, we're going to go back to the Forest of Dean," he said softly.

She turned only her head to face him. "Why?"

"I think it's an important place for the two of us," he said seriously. "It's the place where you first considered living out the rest of your life with only me."

She gave him a small smile. "Would you really have done it? Stayed out there with me?"

"If the entire Wizarding World hadn't been counting on us, yes," he said simply. "A thousand times yes."

"Even with me?"

"Even with you," he said, nodding. "You are the most important person in my life right now, Hermione Granger. I don't ever want to live a single day without you."

Hermione shifted closer to him. "You are the most important in my life right now too, Mr Potter," she whispered, her eyes on his. "With you, I just know that we'll be okay."

"I've been trying to tell you."

She smiled. "Happy birthday, Harry," she said softly, before she placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Welcome to the land of eighteen-year-olds."

"I sometimes forget how young we are," he admitted, his hand resting on her forearm. "We've been through so much, haven't we?"

"Together."

"Together."

"And on Monday, we go on our next adventure."

He ran his fingers along her forearm, enjoying the feel of her soft skin. "And then what happens?" he asked.

"My parents will have to decide if they want to stay in Australia or if they want to come back to England."

"What about you?"

She was finding the movement of his fingers incredibly distracting. "Hmm?"

"Will you stay with them if they decide to stay in Australia?"

Hermione had to still his hand with one of her own in order to concentrate on what he was saying. "What?"

He smiled at the slightly flustered look on her face. "Will you stay with them if they decide to stay in Australia?" he repeated, unsure if he was actually ready for her answer. "I mean, it would make sense if you would. You'd have to be with your parents."

"I told you that I'd never leave you, Harry," she said softly but strongly. "And I mean it."

Harry suddenly pulled her towards him, crushing her in a strong hug. He buried his face in her hair and held on to her for almost a minute, breathing in the scent of her. When he released her, Hermione looked a bit bewildered.

"You've been worrying about this for quite some time, haven't you?"

He nodded, not meeting her gaze.

"My Harry," she breathed. "You do know that I love you, right?"

Harry was always amazed by how casual she was with the word. Didn't she realise that he'd never actually experienced love? Or, if he had, he hadn't known. He thought of Sirius, and of Remus. Ginny, maybe. And then Hermione.

Always Hermione.

"Because I do," she reiterated.

Harry didn't respond as he wrapped his arms around her once more. This time, he did not release her. They both fell asleep with Harry's protective arms around her and Hermione's hands clutching onto the fabric of his t-shirt. That night, there were no nightmares. Hermione felt safe and Harry felt calm.

Harry was so used to sleeping beside her, he didn't think he could ever go back to sleeping alone, let alone in a bed. In the time they'd been at Grimmauld Place, Harry hadn't entered Sirius' bedroom. He felt the closure of his godfather's death but it still hurt him to see what Sirius was missing: this living life.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked him when she noticed he was awake in the morning.

"I'm never sleeping without you," he said seriously.

She shifted in closer to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her breath was warm on his skin and, if he had his way, he would make sure neither of them moved ever again.

"My parents are going to ask about us," she mumbled against his skin, tickling him.

He pulled back slightly. "What?"

She pulled back as well, meeting his gaze. "My parents. They'll have questions about us."

"About us?"

"Who we are to each other," she clarified. "And I doubt that they'll believe that we're just best friends."

Harry swallowed. "And why wouldn't they believe that?"

"Because we're not _just_ best friends, Harry."

"We're not," he agreed.

"So what do we tell them?"

He thought about it for a moment. "We tell them that we just escaped a deadly War and we're still figuring things out, but we love each other and that's all that should matter. How does that sound?"

Hermione blinked. "You love me?"

He smiled. "Of course I do."

She tugged on his t-shirt, before burying her face in the crook of his neck once more. He could feel her smile against his skin and it also made him smile. They stayed in that position for so long that Harry started to worry if she was getting enough air.

It took Kreacher bringing them breakfast to get them to break apart and they both sat up, grinning at each other. Something felt different between them and Harry was sure it had something to do with the word 'love' hanging in the air.

That afternoon, they left the house again, this time going to a small park and just enjoying the fresh air. Hermione lay down on their picnic blanket and read, while Harry lay down beside her and just watched her. She was used to it by now, but it still managed to make her body heat up.

At a certain point, Harry took it upon himself to distract her. After what he discovered the previous night, the feel of his fingers on her forearm was enough to mess with her concentration.

It didn't go unnoticed by Hermione.

In the days leading up to their venture down south, Harry took to touching her whenever they were sitting close enough to each other. He would run his fingers along her arms, along her neck and sometimes over her cheeks. It was incessant, completely distracting and so very desired. She never wanted him to stop.

Even on the plane, Harry held her right hand captive, his fingers tracing patterns on her palm. And he held it just as firmly while he was asleep, his head rolling to one side quite adorably. Hermione found herself watching him the way that she suspected he watched her, and she finally understood why. Having him right here, being able to see him and touch him; it was proof that they'd survived. The War was over, and here they were, still living; still breathing.

Hermione, admittedly, didn't get that much sleep. She was nervous about seeing her parents again, and even more worried about what their reactions would be. She knew they wouldn't like what she'd done, but she hoped that they would eventually understand.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, getting her attention.

"Hmm?"

"You're thinking so loudly; I can't sleep."

She couldn't help but smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered back.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered. "I've been told I'm a great listener."

"Who said that?"

He tugged on her hand playfully. "I'm serious, Hermione."

She sighed, her eyes seeking out his. "What if they never forgive me?"

"They will."

"How can you be so sure?"

He leaned towards her. "Because I've met you, and they would be crazy not to do everything they could to have and keep you in their lives."

Hermione swallowed. "It probably won't be that easy, Harry."

"It won't; you're right about that," he agreed. "But it _will_ happen. They're your parents and they love you, and I just know they'll understand." He squeezed her hand. "And if they don't understand, you could just blame everything on me, you know? Tell them that I made you do it."

She shook her head. "I intend to keep you around, Harry Potter," she said; "so I'd much rather not have my parents hate you."

"For how long are we talking about here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No amount of time would be long enough," she said softly, looking into his eyes.

Harry got lost somewhere in her pools of brown. His entire body was starting to burn up and all she was doing was looking at him; seeing him.

"But I suppose forever sounds good, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded dumbly and Hermione just smiled at his expected reaction - or lack thereof.

"Go back to sleep, Harry," she said, using her free hand to run her fingers through his unruly hair. "At least one of us is going to have to be cognitive when we arrive and, at the rate we're going, it's not going to be me."

Harry gave her one last small smile before he dutifully fell asleep.

When he awoke again, it was to the feeling of touching down on Australian soil. He was still holding onto Hermione's hand and he absently squeezed it to get her attention. He immediately noticed the ghostly look on her face when she turned away from the window to face him.

"You went through every possibly scenario in your head again, didn't you?" he asked, sitting up straight.

"I couldn't help it," she said quietly.

He sighed. "Did you at least allow yourself to think about the good scenarios as well, or just the worst ones?"

Her silence was enough of a response for him and he leaned in close to her, making their foreheads touch.

"I imagine that they've always felt that there is something missing from their lives," he whispered soothingly, watching as she closed her eyes. "They've never been able to figure it out but, whenever they set their table for dinner, they have the urge to set three places instead of two. I imagine that they know all the songs in Teletubbies, but they couldn't ever figure out why. I imagine that _A Winter's Tale_ is their favourite play for just the name Hermione. I imagine that they find their pictures and photographs full of too much empty space."

"Harry," she breathed, feeling overwhelmed.

"I imagine that they've been searching for whatever is missing and, when they find out it's you, they'll be happy."

"You think so?" she asked seriously, opening her eyes.

"Maybe not in the beginning," he said realistically. "I imagine they'll have a lot of questions and we'll have to explain a lot of things but, yes, I think that they will be ecstatic to have you back in their lives."

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered, pulling back slightly. "I'd be such a mess if you weren't here."

"I imagine you'd eventually pull yourself together," he said, grinning at her.

"Is that so?"

"I imagine you would panic a bit, yes, but you would figure out that this needs to be done, regardless of the outcome. I imagine you'd be kicking yourself for ever worrying so much in the first place."

"Are you really going to keep talking like that?" she had to ask.

He laughed lightly. "I imagine it's starting to annoy you."

"You imagine correctly."

"I imagine you think I have a great imagination, don't you?" he asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"Merlin help me," she muttered, just as the plane came to a stop and the air hostesses proceeded to open the doors. "Please tell me that you're not going to do this all night."

Harry just looked at her, saying nothing.

Hermione laughed. "As if this trip needed to be any more interesting."

Harry stood up first and, within half an hour, they were in an airport shuttle on their way to their hotel. Harry booked them a room with twin beds, mainly because he didn't want her to think he assumed anything but, at the concierge's desk, Hermione was the one to request the change to a double room.

She merely shrugged at his raised eyebrow, prompting him to lean forward and bring his lips to her ear so that the lady behind the desk wouldn't hear him.

"I imagine you intend to sleep with me," he whispered, and then smiled when he felt her shiver. He knew he was potentially facing the Hermione wrath but it was definitely worth it. He even endured the death stare she gave him in the elevator. Better yet, he embraced it.

Once they were safely behind the door of their hotel room, Hermione rounded on him and, for a terrifying moment, Harry was convinced she was going to kiss him. She didn't.

"I hope you're enjoying your moment, Potter," she said, her face barely an inch from his. "I'm a little too tired and way too stressed about tomorrow to do anything about it."

"I imagine you want me to run you a bath," he said, and thoroughly enjoyed the mixture of irritation, relief and sentiment on her face. Before she could respond, he kissed her forehead and then disappeared into the bathroom to fill up the tub just the way that he knew Hermione liked it.

He remained in the bathroom while the water ran, allowing himself the time to study his reflection in the mirror. He looked older than eighteen, by a long while. His eyes were dark and his face looked tired, as if the very skin was struggling to stay up. He knew there were many reasons behind it, but none of it felt fair. He was supposed to be a kid. He never should have been forced to grow up so quickly.

When Harry went back out to tell Hermione that her bath was ready, he found her asleep on the floor beside the bed. She'd brought the covers down from the bed and made a makeshift bed for them. Like they had in the library in Grimmauld Place.

Harry did not wake her. She had a big day coming up and he could tell she hadn't had much sleep. He knelt at her side and covered her properly, watching her for a moment. She was so beautiful, even in sleep. _Especially_ in sleep. It was as if all the terror of the last few years was washed away when she was like this. In peace. It was all he would ever want for her.

Harry went back into the bathroom, cast a mild Statis Charm and then returned to Hermione's side. He lay down beside her and just watched her, feeling surprisingly content in this new and foreign place. He had to know that nothing would be at all scary if he was with Hermione. He didn't even have a nightmare when he finally fell asleep.

It was Hermione who woke him up, however unwillingly. She'd tried to escape from his grasp without waking him but she failed, and Harry ended up shifting as he awoke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before his eyes could even open.

Harry was surprised to find Hermione in his arms but he made no move to release her.

"I fell asleep on you, didn't I?" Hermione asked tiredly, rubbing at her eyes.

Harry responded by tightening his hold on her, and Hermione let out a small - satisfied - sigh.

"Do you know what the time is?"

Harry opened one eye to see if there was any light coming through a window but he couldn't see anything so he closed it again. "Too early," he breathed.

"Our body clocks are probably so off right now," she pointed out, her fingers running over the skin of his forearm. She always wondered if the movement did the same thing to him as it did to her. She wanted to know what kind of effect her touch had on him.

It took Harry another thirty seconds to shift quite abruptly. He released her and rolled right around to face away from her. "Hermione," he said, his voice sounding strained.

"What?" she asked innocently, sitting up to see what was wrong with him.

Harry also sat up, keeping his back to her. "Your bath is still waiting for you," he said curtly.

Hermione was tempted to query his disposition again but she thought better of it. "Fine," she said softly, slowly rising to her feet. She used a hand on his shoulder to help her up and she didn't miss the way her tensed up at her touch. They would definitely need to talk about this.

While Hermione was in the bathroom, Harry focused his attention on anything but the lingering feeling of Hermione's fingers on his skin, or the lasting feeling of having her body pressed up against his.

Harry had to remove himself from the bedroom and step out onto the balcony. He used the fresh air to help clear his head and calm his body down. Now was definitely not the time to be experiencing these things; feeling these things. Hermione needed him to be present and strong, because this definitely wasn't going to be easy.

By the time they were both ready to go, Harry had managed to forget about his strange morning reaction. Hermione, unfortunately, hadn't, which led to a bit of an argument that ended with Harry blurting out that he did want to really sleep with her.

Hermione practically blushed from head to toe, and Harry wished a Death Eater would just emerge and Kill him.

"Now please can we just go," Harry grumbled.

Hermione just nodded, and the two of them set off, a certain awkwardness hanging in the air between them. Hermione was the one who knew the address of the Wilkins' Dental Practice, so Harry allowed her to take the lead, ready to step in whenever or if ever she needed it.

Her first sight of hesitation was when they were standing in front of the small building that they both knew was occupied her parents at that very moment. Hermione stood completely frozen, her eyes staring at the small rose garden at the entrance to the practice.

"Do you want to come back later?" Harry offered her kindly.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I have to do this now." She took a deep, calming breath before she strode forwards, renewed confidence in her approach. She faltered agains once they were in the reception and she automatically reached for Harry's hand.

"My mother's favourite colour is green," she whispered to Harry, who could see the various undertones of the colour green in the reception area. There was even a large painting of a green apple, which Harry had to admit was oddly fascinating.

"Hi, can I help you?" the receptionist asked the pair.

Hermione knew that she couldn't exactly demand to see the dentists, even though it was the thing she both wanted to do and dreaded doing with such a passion. There was no turning back now.

"We'd like to see the dentist," Harry said, mumbling his words, as if he really needed a dentist. "I've been experiencing this pain for quite some time, and I need a quality doctor to take a look at it."

"We'll see if we can fit you in," the receptionist - Haley, according to her name tag - informed Harry. "You'll just need to fill this in," she said, handing him a clipboard with forms to fill in.

Harry immediately handed the clipboard to Hermione, which made both the women laugh lightly.

When the two of them sat down to wait, Hermione filled in the form for Harry without ever having to ask him a question. It scared him sometimes, just how well she knew him, but he wouldn't have had anyone else knowing him better than she did.

They had to wait close to an hour for Harry to be squeezed in, and Hermione became more and more antsy as the seconds ticked by.

When they were finally called up, Harry stood first, deftly bringing Hermione up with him. Haley handed the patient file to Harry, and he gave her a small smile, thinking an explanation would be best.

"She's not a fan of the dentist," Harry said to Haley, who just nodded her understanding. Fear of dentists was apparently not that uncommon.

"It's straight through, and on your right," Haley instructed. "You can't miss it."

Harry mumbled a thank you before he led Hermione down the corridor. She felt stiff in his arms but there was no turning back now. They walked slowly, until they came to an open door, in which there were two dentist chair, separated by a flimsy partitioning.

The woman manning the left chair looked up at them as they stepped through the door. "Mister Potter?" she asked, glancing at the piece of paper in her hand and then looking back up at the pair. It was odd for Hermione, having her mother looking straight at her and not recognising her. It was heartbreaking.

"Good morning," Harry said gently, ushering Hermione forward. His own heart was racing but Hermione needed him to be calm and present.

"Not a fan of the dentist, huh?" the woman asked with a knowing smile.

"You could say that," Harry agreed. "We're not from around here, but it's turning into an emergency."

The woman regarded Harry for quite some time, obviously trying to place his accent. "Surrey?"

Harry couldn't stop his smile. "That's brilliant."

"I've got a semi-good ear," she said kindly. "So what can I do for you?"

Harry gathered himself. "I think I need a filling," he said.

Hermione managed to find her voice. "He's been complaining about the pain, and yet he's refused to do anything about it until now. I practically had to drag him here."

"You'll be surprised how many times we've been in this situation.

Before Harry could respond, they heard footsteps behind them. Both teenagers turned to see a man enter through the door, his glasses resting above his forehead. The man greeted the two patients before he moved towards his wife.

Hermione's parents.

Harry leaned in to whisper into Hermione's ear. "You have to do it now," he said soothingly. "It'll be okay, I promise. I'm right here."

Bolstered by Harry's quiet confidence, Hermione reached for her wand. Her parents looked alarmed before they looked confused. Harry couldn't even describe their expressions once the spells were cast because, really, what followed was a bit indescribable.

There was an excited reunion, and then questions. Questions and questions and more questions. Hermione's parents even had to cancel all their appointments for the rest of the day, as they forced Harry and Hermione to explain everything that had happened in the last year.

Of course, Hermione took the lead, skating over the particularly dangerous parts of their hunt. Harry knew she did it because she didn't want to worry Jane and Michael Granger any more than she had to, but she would also like for them not to hate Harry.

"You died?" Michael asked Harry incredulously, his eyes wide.

Harry nodded. "Well, I was struck with the Killing Curse -"

"For the second time," Hermione injected.

"And I didn't die," Harry finished.

"For the second time," Hermione added, and she absently touched Harry's hand, which was a movement that neither parents missed.

The interrogation went on for hours, and Harry thought that they were taking it all surprisingly well. At a certain point, Hermione turned to look at Harry, her eyes kind and affectionate.

"Harry," she said softly; "do you mind giving us a moment?"

Harry hesitated, suddenly worried about what was going to be said once he was out of the room.

"I'll be okay," Hermione assured him, knowing that he had to hear it straight from her mouth. "We'll just be a minute, I promise."

He didn't give anyone the impression that he was okay with being out of her presence, but he still left the room, and made his way back to the reception. Haley was still sitting at her desk, absently going through several files. Harry's appearance surprised her and she jumped in her chair.

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," she said, even though they both knew that she was lying. "Must be quite the root canal, huh?"

"What?"

She used her head to gesture towards the dentists' rooms. "Miss Granger's been in there a while. Did they send you out because it was about to get ugly?"

"You could say that, yeah," Harry muttered.

"I've never been to England myself," she said, trying to make conversation. "What's it like?"

"Umm," Harry sounded. "It definitely rains a lot," he said, smiling slightly. "The people aren't as friendly, I suppose."

"Oh yeah, Australians are about the friendliest people around."

And, at that precise moment, they heard it. The voices started low, but they rose in volume exponentially. Both Harry and Haley turned their heads. But, before either of them could react, Hermione was stomping down the corridor towards them. She looked furious and Harry could feel her losing control of her magic.

"Let's go, Harry," Hermione hissed at him before he could even form words. She grabbed hold of his hand and proceeded to drag him out of the reception. He asked no questions as she led them around the offices and into a secluded spot. In the next moment, she Apparated them back to heir hotel room.

Harry was just able to catch her before she broke down crying. It wasn't until much later that Harry finally got an explanation from her, and it was enough to send _his_ magic spinning out of control.

Harry waited until Hermione was asleep to pay his own visit to her parents. It was easy enough to find out where they lived from their workplace. Apparently all English people knew each other and every Australian believed it.

To say that they were surprised to see him was an understatement.

Harry was polite right until they invited him into the front room. He declined anything to eat or drink and cut straight to it.

"You don't get to make her feel awful about this," he said coolly. "Every decision she's ever made has been to protect the people she cares about. If you're going to be mad at someone, be mad at me." Harry sat back, gathering his thoughts. "I'm the one who befriended her; I'm the one who continually put her in danger; I'm the one who couldn't have done what was required of me without her; I'm the one who needed her. Blame me. Hate me. Not Hermione."

Jane and Michael Granger spent a good minute in silence before Jane spoke.

"We could never hate our daughter," she said calmly. "We just can't accept what she's done."

"What she's done?" Harry said, his tone turning incredulous. "You don't even _know_ what she's done. You want to hold _this_ over your daughter, then you have to know everything else. Hermione Granger is probably the most selfless person I have ever met. She is giving of everything and so self-sacrificing. If you only knew the true role she played in our winning the War; if you only knew ow much she's already suffered. Jesus, why would you want her to suffer any more?"

"Harry?"

"Hermione deserves happiness, and she came here because she won't be able to be happy without her parents. Don't you see? You're her parents. You're supposed to be the people who know her better than anyone. I know that what she did will be difficult to forgive but you have to do it. You have no choice, okay? You're her parents and you're supposed to love her unconditionally. You get to be a family again, and I won't have you throwing it all away just because you can't understand that she loves you so much that she wiped herself from your memories.

"She may have done it to you, but she did it to herself first. The two of you had each other, and Hermione had -"

"You."

Harry paused. "Me. Hermione had me, yes, but I'm not family."

"If you really think that, then you really don't know anything about family," Jane said.

Harry frowned. "Are you saying that to be hurtful?"

Jane looked confused. "What?"

"I don't have any parents," he said. "They died when I was a baby. I was sent to live with my mother's sister's family and they were less than a family. My godfather was killed before I really got to know him. So, no, I don't know anything about family. Everyone who I've ever considered family either died or doesn't want me. I _know_ what that feels like, and I don't want that for Hermione.

"You're alive because of her. _I'm_ alive because of her. You have to forgive her. She's lost enough, and she's cried enough tears. I told her things would be okay with you. I told her that you would forgive her and that everything will work out. I'm many things, believe me, but please don't make me a liar."

Jane blinked. "You really love her, don't you?"

"What?"

"Hermione. You're in love with her?"

Harry's eyes widened. Then, in the next moment, his heart rate dropped quite considerably, and he sat up straight. "I do, yes," he said simply. And that was that. Harry didn't think he could bring himself to say anything more on the subject of Hermione or his relationship with her. So, standing up, he informed them of where they could find Hermione when they came to their senses, and then he left, muttering his goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Hermione was, thankfully, still asleep when Harry returned to the hotel room, which was a relief for the wizard. The last thing he needed was to have to explain where he's gone, or even what he'd said. Harry couldn't even believe some of the things that had come out of his mouth. For Merlin's sake, he told her parents that he was in love with her. And he'd even said it so confidently. Hermione would probably kill him if she knew.

When Hermione did finally wake up, Harry ordered them some food. Hermione wanted just about everything, and Harry was happy to oblige. He ordered her blueberry pancakes, a gallon of orange juice, Chinese noodles, French fries, a cheeseburger, three different desserts and a full bottle of red wine.

If anyone were to ask Harry, he still wouldn't be able to say how Hermione managed to put all that food away. It should have been humanly impossible, but she managed it. Harry had managed to swipe a few fries, but that was it. She was especially protective of her pancakes.

"What?" Hermione suddenly asked, eyeing him curiously.

"What what?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Harry blinked, trying to come up with something. He couldn't just tell her he loved her _that_ way, could he? "Umm, well, there's something I wanted to discuss with you."

Hermione stilled her hands and sat up straight. "What is it?"

"What do you intend to do now?"

"Now?"

"Well, I mean, do you want to leave, or are you going to stay? Possibly even try again?"

Her features hardened. "I think that they made themselves pretty clear, Harry," she said curtly. "The Weasleys didn't want me, and now my parents don't want me. Are you about to say that you don't want me as well?"

Harry just stared at her. "I won't even dignify that question with a response," he said, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his tone. "All I want to say is that I think we should stick around for a little while."

"Why?"

"Because I've never actually been on a holiday," he informed her; "and I strongly believe that your parents _will_ come around."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. "They won't."

"One week," he said. "Let's just stay and do painfully touristy things, and just enjoy this time. Please?"

Despite herself, Hermione found herself grinning. "You can be such a child sometimes."

"Please?"

"Fine," she finally relented. "But one week, and then we're out of this place. Australia hasn't exactly been a good experience for me."

Harry vowed to do everything he could to make her change her mind. It didn't take much, really. After Harry took her to the City Library, she proclaimed never to leave Australia every again. It got even worse when Harry managed to locate one of the Wizarding libraries. He'd gone to great lengths to keep the fact that he was Harry Potter a secret.

It didn't work. Harry's visit to the Australian Ministry caused a bit of a stir, but he had them quickly put a stop to it. Then they offered him something he knew neither he nor Hermione could refuse.

"Private tutoring?" Hermione asked.

Harry could tell that she was excited about the prospect of finishing up with school. "Yeah," he said. "We wouldn't actually have to go to school. We'd just go to the Ministry."

"You and me?"

He frowned. "Who else?"

"I mean, you _and_ me?"

"Of course."

She grinned at him. "That means that we're staying?"

"If this is what you want," he said.

"And this has nothing to do with my parents?" she asked, eyeing him. "Because I don't respond well to manipulation."

"Neither do I."

"Harry."

He sighed. "I'll admit that the first week was a bit of a manipulation," he confessed gently. "I just thought that maybe, if we gave them more time, they would come to their senses."

"But now?"

"Now I kind of like it here," he said truthfully. "Don't you?"

"It's definitely growing on me."

He smiled at her. "So you're willing to stay?"

"We'll have to move out of here at some point," she said.

"My my, Miss Granger, are you suggesting that we move in together? That's a little fast, isn't it? At least take me out on a date first."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How about tonight?"

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"That date, Harry," she said calmly, even though she felt anything but calm. "How does tonight sound?"

He swallowed. "Hmm, I'll have to think about it, you know? See, I've got this best friend, and she's rather demanding of my time. It's been quite difficult to get away these days."

"Oh shut up," she said, reaching for his hand. "Just say yes, so I can go and make myself look pretty."

"But you already look pretty."

"Liar."

Harry tugged on her hand to bring her closer to him. "I'm not lying to you, Hermione."

From his tone, she had no choice but to believe him.

"So, _yes_ , goodness, just stop with the begging already," he said, smirking. "I'll go on a date with you, _okay_."

"God, you're awful."

"Seven o'clock sound all right?" he asked, still brilliantly amused. "I imagine that the evening will be over quickly, you know? I have to get home to my best friend. Did I tell you how demanding she is?"

"Harry," she said, glaring at him.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," he said, raising his hands in innocence. "But you're just too easy to rile up sometimes."

Hermione's tone turned serious quite suddenly. "Do you hate that you spend all your time with me?"

"Oh, definitely," he said, still smiling. He refused to allow her to read too much into his teasing. "But I love it more than I hate it, I promise."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "I don't even know what I'm going to do with you."

"But you'd be even more lost without me, wouldn't you?"

"I don't like to think about it," she said softly, her tone turning serious. "Without you, Harry, I'd have nobody. I know that doesn't really bode well for a relationship, needing each other this way and it's probably messing with our feelings, but I can't imagine life without you."

And then he did something stupid. So very stupid. But, in his defence, it practically slipped out without warning. There was no stopping it. "I love you."

Hermione just stared at him. "What?"

"Talk about messed up feelings," he said nervously, rubbing the back of his head with his palm. "It doesn't have to change anything," he added through his own panic. "I just thought I would tell you."

Hermione sighed. "We're totally doing this in a really jumbled up order here, Harry."

"But we are doing _this_?"

Hermione leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you at seven," she said, and then disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Harry a little dazed. He'd told her that he loved her, and he knew that she knew he meant it in the _real_ way.

But she said nothing about it, and Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it. He wouldn't want her to lie to him if she didn't feel the same way but any bit of acknowledgement would have been appreciated. He suspected that avoiding it altogether wouldn't bode well in the future.

Harry completely forgot about his disgruntlement when Hermione emerged at precisely seven o'clock. She looked beautiful in a dark blue, knee-length dress and she literally took his breath away. It was going to be an extremely long evening of fighting for control.

Somehow, Harry managed it, even though Hermione was really enjoying torturing him. What was worse was that she didn't even realise that she was doing it. Or she did. He couldn't tell, and it was starting to bother him. He was supposed to know Hermione better than anyone.

"Do you want to dance?" Harry asked at some point.

Hermione looked around the restaurant, heat rising up her neck. "Really?"

He nodded as he stood up. "Really."

Hermione stared at his offered hand. "Harry?"

"Please?"

"If I recall correctly, you didn't really _ask_ the last time we danced."

He grinned. "Well, I'm asking now."

Hermione stood up and took his hand. The entire night, she'd been avoiding having to respond to his earlier confession. It was a big one. She could tell he meant it in the _real_ way and she was surprised by how scared of his love she _didn't_ feel. She was safe in his arms.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked after a while, holding her just that bit tighter.

"The future."

"You don't look that excited about it," he pointed out, looking at her face. "I'm sorry that the prospect of a life with me doesn't excite you."

"It's not that, Harry, and you know it."

"It's about your parents then," he stated. "Do you want me to talk to them?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, it's okay."

"If ever you want me to, I will," he offered. Merlin, he was going to have to tell her about the talk he _already_ had with them some day. He knew she wasn't going to like the fact that he had essentially gone behind her back. She was probably going to hex him to within an inch of his life.

Hermione knew Harry a little too well, and she could see it all over his face. "Oh my God, you already did, didn't you?"

Harry felt her go rigid in his arms, and he did his best not to show his panic. "What?"

She raised an eyebrow, but made no move to leave his embrace. "Don't play dumb. When did you talk to them?"

"The day of," he admitted.

"That was almost three weeks ago," she said, her eyes widening. She looked just about to let rip at him when her face fell, the reality of her own words kicking in. "That was almost three weeks ago," she repeated in a whisper.

Harry pulled her tight against him, hugging her closer than he ever had. "They'll come around," he whispered into her hair.

"You don't know that."

Harry's confidence in her parents was faltering with every day that past, and he couldn't find the words to keep assuring her of something he was no longer sure would happen. "I'm not going to give up on them," he said instead. "You can't either."

Hermione pulled out of his embrace and eyed him, her tears successfully held at bay. "You are so very special, Harry Potter."

He shrugged. "I try."

A moment later, Hermione was kissing him, right in the middle of the small dance floor in the restaurant. She surprised them both, but Harry recovered quickly enough to kiss her right back. They really were doing this all in a jumbled up order, but it suddenly didn't even matter.

Hermione pulled away first, breathing heavily. "You didn't pass out," she said, smiling at him.

"Neither did you," he said, laughing slightly, as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"I came close," she admitted.

"I imagine so, because you look a little light-headed there, Hermione."

Instead of reprimanding him, she kissed him one more time, before they both returned to their table and ordered dessert. Harry couldn't stop the smile that felt permanent on his face but he was still rather wary of the fact that she still hadn't quite reacted to his earlier confession. Maybe it was best if they did just forget that it ever happened. It had been a lapse in judgment on his part.

Harry forced himself not to think about it too much. Not tonight, at least.

After dinner, they took a nice long walk along the promenade. Her hand felt like it was made to fit with his and he wasn't sure if he could tell her that. Going on a _date_ with Hermione was so different to just _being_ with Hermione. It was as if he suddenly forgot who he was when he was around her.

"So how would it work then?" Hermione asked after a while, cutting into their pleasant silence.

"How would what work?"

"The private tutoring?"

Her question allowed him to remember that this was, in fact, Hermione, his best friend. There was nothing to fear here. "Well, they have these tutor rooms at the Ministry, with tutors specialising in almost all the subjects."

"Almost?"

"Obviously, they don't have _Muggle_ Studies here," he informed her. "Also, their History of Magic isn't specific to England, like at Hogwarts."

"It _would_ be interesting to learn about other histories."

Harry just smiled at her.

"We should stay," she concluded. "We should definitely stay."

Harry released her hand so he could put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her nice and close. Even though they were reaching the back end of an Australian winter, it was still rather hot out. Despite the weather, a shiver ran down Hermione's spine at the contact.

By the time they returned to the hotel, it was almost midnight and Hermione was starting to feel nervous. They had just gone on their first official date, he had told her that he loved her, they had shared their first kiss and now they were both returning to a hotel room were they slept on the floor _together_.

They rode the elevator in silence, their fingers entwined.

"What happens now?" Hermione eventually asked as they stepped out onto their floor.

Harry pulled her nice and close as they walked. "We _are_ doing this in a messed up order," he said; "so I'm pretty sure we're supposed to have a baby now."

She laughed out loud at that. "I'm serious, Harry," she said, placing her free hand on his chest. "What happens?"

"Nothing has to _happen_ ," he informed her. "We just keep going as we've been going. We'll talk things out as they happen. There's no need to rush or anything. It's just you and me and, as long as we're in it together, I think that life will be simple and good for us."

Hermione was just about to respond when she spotted someone sitting in front of their hotel room door. "Dad?"

Michael Granger turned his head to spot the two teenagers headed his way, walking hand in hand. He immediately stood up and straightened himself out.

Hermione did not release Harry, though she did stiffen at his side, suddenly apprehensive about her father's presence. "What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Harry said we could find you here," he offered without actually answering the question.

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand for support.

"It's almost midnight," she pointed out to her father.

"I came a lot earlier," he said. "I was worried that, if I left, I might not come back."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked again.

Michael glanced at Harry for some help on how to respond but the young wizard had eyes only for Hermione. "Well, umm, I was wondering if we could talk."

"About?"

"Things."

Hermione let out a breath before she turned to look at Harry. He gave her a look that told her it was her choice. Eventually, she looked at her father again. "Sure, we can talk. Come inside."

Harry made quick work of the door, entering first, with his wand out. In a moment, the place was tidied up enough to invite in their guest. Harry played host quite well, offering drinks while Hermione and her father sat uncomfortably in the small living room area. Harry wanted to give them sufficient privacy but he still wanted Hermione to know that he was right there if she needed him.

It turned out that she didn't even need him.

Hermione and her father did not fight. They were a few times that their voices rose but, after Michael apologised for his own reaction, there was only one way for their relationship to go. Hermione asked after her mother, which resulted in a tense few minutes.

"She's about as stubborn as you are," Michael said softly. "But I'm certain that she'll come around."

Hermione just nodded.

When Michael left, he promised to call about possibly having lunch some time during the week. Hermione mentioned to Harry that she wouldn't be holding her breath, which made Harry laugh.

"At least he came," he offered as they were getting ready for bed. "He could have stayed away, you know?"

"I know."

Harry settled down on the floor and lay flat on his back, resting the back of his head on his palms. "It'll work itself out," he said, his eyes tracking her movements. "And if it doesn't, would being stuck with just me be the worst thing in the world?"

Hermione didn't respond until she was lying down on her stomach beside him, propped up on her elbows. "I think that a life with you would be perfect, Harry."

He looked at her for a moment before his face broke out in a grin. "Are you ready to start on that baby then?"

She merely laughed at him as she rolled onto her side and shifted in nice and close to him. "When do we start at the Ministry?"

"As soon as we want."

"Monday."

Harry kissed the top of her head. "Monday it is."

It had to be the most pleasant sleep either of them ever had. Harry wasn't sure if it had something to do with their new relationship status - whatever that now was - but he decided that he wouldn't question it. Good sleep was always greatly appreciated.

It took Michael Granger nearly two weeks to contact his daughter and, in that time, Harry and Hermione started at the Ministry. They were also actively looking for a more permanent place to live. As great as it was to have someone keeping their room clean for them, it just didn't feel very homely.

Hermione mentioned to Harry that she thought it would be best if she went to lunch with her father alone. He was apprehensive at first, but then she also told him that she intended to tell him that she and Harry were dating. At the sound of _that_ , Harry was quick to agree with her. That was definitely something she needed to do alone.

Despite his stance on the matter, Harry was a basket of nerves while she was out. He could just imagine how it was going, and he didn't want her to have to deal with it alone. He was up on his feet as soon as he heard her come in.

She looked completely bewildered.

"What? What?" he asked, moving towards her. "What happened? Are you okay? Did he say something mean?"

Hermione didn't say anything as she drew him into a gentle hug. "You were right," she whispered into his ear.

"As much as I would love to enjoy this moment, I have to ask: what am I right about?"

"Everything is going to work out."

"And why do you say that?"

Hermione released him so that she could look at him. "My mother was there," she said. "The three of us, we, uh, we talked. A lot. They asked me questions about nearly everything."

"Everything?"

"More than just the time since I _Obliviated_ them. About Hogwarts, and the events leading up to the War. About you."

"Oh. So how did they take that?"

"Well, they didn't appear that surprised, to be honest," she admitted.

Harry just nodded. He'd expected that, seeing as he'd revealed his love for Hermione to them quite some time ago. "What else happened?" he asked.

"It's going to take time, I know. We'll have to rebuild our relationship, but we did make some decisions," she informed him.

Harry didn't know why but he suddenly felt nervous.

"You and me, we're staying to finish our education, right?" At his nod, she continued. "My parents don't want to go back either. This will be our home now, Harry. Is that okay with you?"

Harry slipped his hands around her waist. "I just want to be with you, Hermione. I don't care where that is."

If Hermione had been uncertain about where they stood, she wasn't anymore. Despite the fact that he told her he loved her before they even went on their first date, Hermione had to say that their relationship was progressing as it should: steadily and slowly.

So it was a surprise to Harry when she kissed him. Hard. They quickly lost themselves in the feel of each other and Harry was more than happy to let Hermione dictate how far they went and at what pace.

It just never occurred to him that she would be interested in going all the way.

The entire time, Harry kept asking if she was sure and, eventually, she just reached down and grabbed him, which definitely shut him up.

Later, Hermione told him that the only reason she was even considering leading a fulfilling future life, was him. It wasn't an 'I love you' but it was pretty damn close. If that was all she could handle, then Harry would take it.

* * *

Once they really started looking for a place to stay, Hermione's mother started to involve herself more in their lives. Harry was wary of it, somewhat afraid that Jane might say something about their relationship or, really, anything that would set Hermione off. But, it turned out that Hermione wasn't the only Granger woman full of surprises.

Their lives became the sort of mundane that both Harry and Hermione positively loved. They lived simply, enjoying their schoolwork and the Australian scenery. Hermione's birthday came and went without incident. She didn't ask for anything but Harry still spoilt her with a brand new set of Australian Magical books. If she was going to thank him the way that she did that night, he would buy her the world.

"They didn't send anything, did they?" Harry asked her before they both drifted to sleep.

Hermione snuggled in closer to him, resting her ear over his heart. "Everyone that I need in my life is here with me right now, Harry Potter."

"I'm still sorry," he whispered. "I know it would have been nice to hear from them."

"We don't need the Weasleys to be happy," she said dismissively.

Harry merely pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. They would discuss it no more.

When they moved into their apartment, they threw a small house-warming party and invited Hermione's parents and several people from the Ministry. The apartment wasn't too far away from her parents' house but that meant very little when both of them could Apparate. Harry even managed to get his license so he could do it legally.

All the while, Hermione did not say the three words that Harry wanted to hear. He hadn't said them again, in case it came across that he was pushing her to say them back. Because he wasn't. In his mind, he said it once, and he would inform her if anything changed.

Halloween arrived and it was probably the easiest Halloween Harry had ever had. He did allow himself to feel the loss of his parents but having Hermione around was enough to keep him distracted. They even took a stroll through the neighbourhood and thoroughly enjoyed the decorated houses and various costumes.

"I never expected that wearing our school robes out in public would go over as a suitable costume," Hermione mentioned to him as they passed by a group of children dressed up like witches and wizards. They even had wands - well, they had small tree branches.

"I don't think we'd be believable without the hats," he said, laughing. "Though, we'd definitely put on quite the magic show."

"The Ministry would have our heads within an hour."

"But I'm Harry Potter," he said, smirking at her. "I saved the world. I think I could get away with it."

Hermione kissed his cheek. "Let's just finish up with school and then we can discuss your career as a magician."

"Would you be my very sexy assistant?"

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"I imagine you would like it too."

Hermione chose not to respond. She just squeezed his hand tighter, leaned into him a bit and continued with their walk in silence. It was one thing about their relationship that Hermione loved. Neither of them had the desire to talk all the time. They were both very comfortable with each other's silence.

It was just after Christmas that Harry started to act strange. To everyone else, he seemed exactly the same. But, to Hermione, he appeared distracted, and he wasn't as engaging as he usually was. Whenever she asked him about it, he evaded the question the only way that Harry Potter could. It bothered Hermione to no end. He was generally good at hiding things but he hadn't done that in quite some time. Well, not with her, at least.

So, when Hermione went looking, she wasn't sure _what_ she would find. She fought with herself whether it was a good idea to snoop but she couldn't help it. He wasn't talking to her about whatever was on his mind, so she was going to have to find out for herself.

And, when she did find _it_ , Hermione panicked. It was among his things in his study, not exactly hidden, but not on display either. It was a plane ticket and, during her brief glance at it, all she caught was London, Heathrow. He wanted to go home. _Alone_.

What? When did that happen? Why hadn't he told her?

Hermione flopped down into his desk chair and let out a long breath. There was only _one_ ticket. He was going to leave. He was going to leave _her_.

And, frankly, Hermione wouldn't blame him. She hadn't done enough to let him know that she was in this with him for the long run. Merlin, she hadn't even told him that she loved him. She had to tell him. Before he left, she _had_ to tell him.

Hermione wasn't sure where he was exactly. He gave her an excuse that he was meeting someone for lunch, which, now, merely added to her panic. Who was he meeting? Why wouldn't he tell her?

Hermione suddenly sat forward and reached for Harry's planner. She was suddenly so grateful that she nagged him into getting it, and using it. She felt a little guilty paging through it but this was an emergency, wasn't it? When she reached the desired page, Hermione paled.

 _13:00 - Lunch at Rostov's with HPs. Don't tell Hermione._

HPs? What did that mean? Don't tell Hermione? What?

Hermione stood up quite suddenly. Her instincts told her that she had nothing to worry about but her Hermione traits wouldn't allow her to just sit around and wait. Her boyfriend was up to something and Hermione was physically unable to wait it out.

She would go to Rostov's. She would tell him that she loved him. Then she would ask him not to go.

Hermione Apparated into an empty alley next to the restaurant complex that housed one of their favourite daytime restaurants, Rostov's. She raced through the car park, only one thing on her mind: _Find Harry_. As he'd had her practising lately, she reached out with her magic, trying to sense where he was as she sped through the small mall in search of the only boy she would ever need.

Hermione couldn't help the fear she felt. She could feel herself losing him, and it terrified her.

When she caught a trace of his magic, she stopped dead. In her mind, she'd expected to find him with _someone else_ , so she was wholly unprepared to spot her Harry sitting and having a casual drink with her parents. _Her parents_. HPs suddenly made sense to her: _Hermione's Parents_. What the bloody hell could the three of them be talking about?

When it hit her, her breath caught. _Oh Merlin, he's telling them that he wants to go back to England. He's going to leave. He's going to go, all because I'm scared shitless of actually_ telling _him that I love him. That's what the ticket is for._

Hermione rushed towards their table, clearly surprising them all with her presence. Hermione didn't even register that she'd interrupted what looked to be a rather serious conversation.

"Hermione?" Harry reacted first, getting to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I have to tell you something," she said, ignoring the curious glances of both her parents and several patrons of the restaurant in which they were. "It's important."

"Umm," Harry sounded, glancing around. "Okay."

She took a deep, calming breath as she steeled herself for what she was about to say to him. This moment would be monumental in their story, and she could sense that he just knew it too. "Instead of telling you all the things that I love about you," she began; "I thought I would tell you the reasons why I don't love you."

Harry just stared at her, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

She took another deep breath, her emotions running rampant. "I don't love you because you're smart and kind. I don't love you because you're selfless and brave and way too moody."

"I am not moody."

She laughed lightly. "I don't love you because you are incredibly handsome and your eyes, Merlin, your eyes."

Harry grinned at her, feeling his heart thump hard in his chest.

"I love you because you're my best friend, Harry, and I want this with you. I do; I swear that I do. Because, right now, I'm confused about every single thing in my life, except you."

Harry didn't waste a second as he stepped towards her and pressed his lips against hers, completely forgetting that they weren't alone. In fact, they were in a crowded restaurant, and they were in front of her parents. But, in that moment, all he could think about was Hermione Granger and the feel of her lips against his, moving as if they were meant to fit together.

It took someone clearing their throat to get them to break apart, and they both flushed deep scarlet when their eyes settled on Jane and Michael.

"Sorry," Hermione said, sitting down and tugging Harry into his own chair by her hold on his hand.

Jane was trying not to laugh and Michael looked supremely uncomfortable, even a bit annoyed.

"Sweetheart," Jane said to her daughter. "Not that it isn't great to see you, but what exactly are you doing here?"

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, you know, just professing my love for one Harry Potter, before he, you know, decided that he'd had enough of me and decided to leave for England."

Harry and both of Hermione's parents just stared at her, dumbfounded.

Hermione blinked. "That is why you're here, isn't it?" she asked, before her eyes settled on Harry. "Right? That's why you're here having a secret meeting with my parents? To discuss your leaving?"

Harry shook his head. "Umm... no. Definitely not," he assured her. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, you have been acting kind of secretive lately, and I found a plane ticket, and I just started to panic, and I don't want you to go. I know I've been a little flaky about this whole relationship thing but I do love you; I know you know that."

"Hermione," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere. I swear. It amazes me that that's the first thing you would think of."

"But... the ticket?"

"The ticket is for Andromeda. She and Teddy are coming to visit."

"Oh." She looked down at her hands. "But then why are you meeting with my parents without me?"

Harry took hold of both of her hands and tugged gently until she was looking at him. "Why do you think?"

The only reason Hermione could think of couldn't be it, so she just shook her head. They'd barely been _together_ together for a few months. "I don't know," she said.

"You and I both know that you do know," he replied easily. Harry leaned forward until his lips were just over her ear and he started to whisper. "Pretty girl, I intend to spend the rest of my life with you. I intend to ask you to marry me and grow old and grey with you, building a wonderful life with you and having a million Potter babies with you."

Hermione swallowed, the mixture of the words he was saying and the feel of his lips making it increasingly difficult to breathe properly.

Harry leaned back. "I was just letting your parents know of my intentions when it comes to their daughter," he said calmly, but Hermione was anything but calm.

She coughed. "A million?"

He laughed out loud. "Okay, maybe a thousand."

Hermione still looked a little stunned. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that three of you are here because Harry intends to ask for your blessing?" she asked the table in general, but her gaze eventually settled on her mother. "Mum?"

"Actually," Jane said, enjoying her daughter's obvious shock a little too much. "Harry already asked, and we already gave it."

Hermione was certainly too shocked to speak at that point, and she just stared, her mouth hanging slightly open.

Harry made a show of closing her mouth for her. "Breathe," he teased.

"But...?" she tried.

"I was going to wait," Harry said, trying to ease what he believed was panic. "I mean, I _will_ wait. I just wanted them to know of my future intentions because, even you have to admit, Hermione, that, once we found our way to each other; it was always going to be for a very long time."

That much, she definitely knew. "Forever," she said simply.

"I imagine it still wouldn't be long enough," he said softly, squeezing her hands.

She swallowed. "So you're not asking me right now?"

"I'm not asking you right now," he assured her. "But, just know that I intend to ask you some day."


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Surprisingly, or not surprisingly, that _some day_ arrived much sooner than either of them expected. And, instead of Harry doing the asking, Hermione did. It had been a long day at the Australian Ministry for both of them and, when they got home, all they wanted to do was eat, drink wine and relax. Harry wasn't a fan of all the studying but he was determined to pass his final-year exams, if only to make Hermione happy.

Their proposed evening did not occur.

They'd made it home, taken one look at each other, and then made love on their living room floor. As with nearly other room in their apartment, there were blankets enough to create their infamous bed on the floor. Hermione was the one to bring up their future-forever, claiming that she wanted a lifetime of days like these.

"I would give you the world, if I could," Harry told her, his tone serious as his breath floated over her bare shoulder.

"I think that you could do me one better, Potter."

"How so?" he asked curiously.

"Marry me, Harry?"

He blinked once. "Why?"

She frowned. "Why what?"

"Why are you asking me now? Right this very moment?"

Hermione gave it a moment of thought. She wasn't deflated by the fact that he hadn't responded in the affirmative immediately. They were already as good as married, really, that getting engaged was merely a formality in light of the outside world. "I want what you want," she told him. "I wasn't ready before, but I'm ready now. I'd even concede to a million Potter babies."

"Oh, I see," he said, his fingers running down the side of her body. "You just want to be Mrs Hermione _Potter_ , don't you?"

"Then we'll have the same initials."

Harry grinned at her sudden blush. "How long have you spent thinking about that? And tell the truth."

"Not long," she lied.

"I imagine it's been a substantial amount of time," he said, blatantly referring to his 'I imagine' that he knew she hated.

"Harry," she warned.

He just laughed as he rolled onto her, pinning her down with the weight of his body. "Yes, Hermione, a thousand times yes," he whispered, their breaths mingling. "I will marry you. I imagine somebody has to."

She gasped, her hands immediately trying to push him away.

"I love you," he said, staying put. "And I would go and fetch the ring from my study but I'm a little too comfortable where I am right now." He gave her a chaste kiss. "Though, seeing as _you_ are the one who proposed, shouldn't you be getting me a ring?"

"Would you really wear an engagement ring?" she asked pointedly, her breath slightly jagged.

"If the diamond was a good size, yes," he said, laughing. "I mean, how can you go around proposing without a ring, Hermione. That's just bad form."

"I love you," she said. "I'll get you a ring if you want one."

"I want you to wear my ring," he informed her. "I want to be able to look at your hand and know that I put it there. And I would definitely go and get it right now but I could think of a few other things I would rather be doing."

"We're engaged, Harry," she said, still sounding breathless.

"We are."

Hermione's mother was the first one to hear the news. Harry was making them dinner while Hermione relayed the events of the evening to her mother over the phone - even mentioning the impromptu sex, which made Harry blush. Hermione made sure to tell her mother not to mention _that_ part to her father when Jane told him.

It was only later, after they'd celebrated a few more times, that Hermione felt an odd sense of melancholy settle in. Of course, Harry, knowing her the way that he did, noticed almost immediately. It was clear that her excitement over the ring had died down, though she kept glancing down at her left hand.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, sitting up against the front of the couch and giving her his full attention.

Hermione also sat up, her eyes settling on him. "You asked my parents for their blessing to ask me to marry you, right?"

Harry nodded. "Ages ago though," he pointed out.

"I guess, well, I'm just thinking that I didn't get the chance to do the same... with _your_ parents," she said, dropping her gaze. "What if they didn't approve of me?"

"Hermione," he said, sounding amused. "My parents not approve of _you_? That'd be the day."

"I'm trying to be serious here," she said, lifting a blanket up and covering her face. "I worry about these things, okay?"

Harry made a move to drop the blanket so he could see her face. "Hermione," he said seriously; "My parents would love you. I just know it."

"You can't know that," she countered. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you can't."

"Okay, maybe I can't know for sure," he conceded. "But this is what I do know. I'm made up of pieces of both of them, and _I_ love you, which must count for something, right?"

Hermione didn't appear convinced, even if she found his reasoning adorable.

"And I know for a fact that Sirius loved you," Harry said. "I imagine that he's spent weeks telling my parents that he knew, all along, that the two of us would end up together. Remus loved you as well. I'm convinced that he saw so much of my mother in you. They were as much my family as my parents, and you know they approved of you, so just know that my parents would trust in their opinions, and in my choices."

Hermione took a deep breath. "What about the Weasleys?"

Harry's features hardened. "What about them?"

"For a while, they were your family, Harry. What would they think of all of this? Would they approve?"

Harry didn't quantify her questions with responses. "Do you love me?"

"Most of the time," she responded, smiling slightly.

"Do you want to marry me?"

"I think the fact that I just asked you to marry me kind of answers that one, doesn't it, Mr Potter?"

"You're too damn smart for your own good," he muttered, suddenly lunging for her and pinning her down with his own body weight. "Are you getting smart with me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione responded by kissing him. Suddenly, she couldn't wait for the rest of their lives to occur. Even as she lay there, she couldn't mistake the feeling that this was what happiness felt like. And it never ceased to amaze her that she'd managed to find it with Harry Potter, in Australia of all places.

Unlike other times in their lives, their happiness lasted longer than either of them anticipated. It was a good, easy life, as they continued with their private studying. Hermione spent time with her mother, trying and somewhat failing to plan a wedding. It didn't help that neither bride nor groom could settle on a suitable date or location.

If they were being entirely honest with themselves - and they weren't - they would have to agree that getting married in Australia just didn't _feel_ right. Despite what they convinced themselves, home would always be in England. Despite what it had done to Harry, it was still the place of his parents, and not even Hermione could change that.

The thing was that they weren't in any rush. They had their entire lives to get married, have kids and grow old. It was simpler to focus on their schoolwork, which they did.

Of course, Hermione passed everything with flying colours. And, thanks to his wonderful fiancee, Harry Potter was able to register a pretty good academic haul for himself.

Which just left them with more questions. What now?

Harry decided that some time off would do him well, and Hermione was actively considering going to Muggle University. They vowed not to make any hasty decisions, which proved to be a great idea, because the letters arrived several days after Harry's nineteenth birthday.

The celebration, itself, was a small affair, just Harry, Hermione, her parents, a few people from the Australian Ministry and Harry and Hermione's neighbours. It was a dinner held in their apartment and Harry found that Hermione had a little too much fun playing hostess.

Harry hadn't expected the letters, but he couldn't honestly say that he was surprised. Because he wasn't. His birthday was widely known and, thus, remembered.

"Harry," Hermione said grimly, the soft pads of her socked-up feet the only indication that she had entered his study.

He read her tone of voice for what it was and stood up from his desk, deftly moving around the large slab of mahogany he called a desk. "What?"

She held up the envelopes she'd just received. "It's a letter from Ginny."

Harry swallowed. "For you?"

She shook her head no.

"For me?"

Hermione handed him the letter. "Ron sent one to me."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. The truth was that he hadn't thought about the Weasleys in quite some time, not since they'd formalised their engagement.

After he and Hermione had written their N.E.W.T.s, Harry had all but forgotten about England and its inhabitants. He wrote only to Andromeda to hear about how she and Teddy were getting along. And to Hagrid. Harry knew that Hermione kept in touch with Professor McGonagall and sometimes Luna, but that was it. He doubted that she told them all that much; just that they were safe and happy.

Because Harry _was_ happy, and he had a feeling that these letters were going to ruin it.

"I'm not sure if I want to read it," Hermione admitted. "It's been more than a year since we've seen or even spoken to either of them. Why now?"

Harry didn't have any answers for her. "Do you think they know that we're together?"

"How could they?"

"I mean, I find it a little odd that Ron didn't send me a letter as well, don't you?"

Hermione pondered that for a moment. "If they believe we're together; they probably don't know that we're _together_ together."

He grinned at her. "Oh, Hermione, I don't know to what you are referring."

Hermione set the letter she was holding aside and moved towards him. Her arms snaked around his neck and she gave him a chaste kiss. "I love you, Harry Potter, and I honestly cannot wait to marry you."

"I'm sensing a but," he said, sighing.

"Maybe we should tell them," she said, unable to look him in the eye. "I mean, there's no timeframe on grieving, right? Maybe this is their way of letting us know that they're ready and they're sorry."

"I wouldn't count on receiving an apology, Hermione," he said flatly.

"Maybe," she agreed; "but they were a big part of our lives for a very long time. And, can you honestly say that you'd want to get married without the Weasleys?"

He sighed, his arms closing around her waist. "They do know how to throw a party, don't they?"

Hermione kissed him again. "That they do."

Harry leaned his forehead against hers. "Do you think they'll be okay with this, with us?"

"What would happen if they weren't?" she felt she had to ask.

"Oh, then we'd definitely have to call the whole thing off," he said, smiling at her.

"I hate you," she muttered, faking annoyance.

"You love me," he whispered breathily, making Hermione close her eyes. "You love me, and I love you. It's all that matters to me, okay? We've survived so long without them. I'm happy, right here, with only you, so it doesn't really matter what they think."

"It doesn't?"

"Hermione, it doesn't," he repeated. She had to know and, if she needed him to; he would tell her every single day. "Nothing in those letters is going to change anything for us, okay?"

Harry lied.

The second they opened and read those letters changed something, though neither of them were quite sure what. They'd stayed in Harry's study to read them, sitting side by side on the couch.

"Ginny says thank you for allowing her the time to grieve," Harry explained to Hermione.

"Ron says that he knows that too many things were left unsaid, and that he misses me," Hermione said back.

"She says she's ready to try again."

Hermione blinked. "Try what again?"

"Us. A relationship."

Despite Harry's earlier words, Hermione felt an overwhelming wave of fear. She was forced into remembering that the reason she even had Harry was because, at the time, Ginny just wasn't ready for him. And now she was.

"Hey," Harry said, getting her attention. "I love you and only you, okay?" he said seriously. "And, anyway, it isn't like she apologised or anything," he muttered. "I still can't forgive the way the entire family just stopped talking to us, even if I can sometimes understand it."

"Ron says he wants to see me," she told Harry. "He wants to talk about us."

Harry took a moment to digest that information. "Did they honestly just expect us to wait around all this time?" he asked sourly, his anger rising. "Hiding out, doing nothing, feeling nothing, while they worked through their grief as a _family_?"

Hermione put a comforting hand on his forearm to keep him calm.

Harry immediately deflated. "I'll agree to see them," he eventually said. "Not alone though. We tell them _both_ together, okay?"

Hermione was inclined to agree. There really was no telling how each of them would react to the news that she and Harry intended to get married. But then again, as her mother had said, the piece of paper and the rings were merely a formality. They'd been acting like a married couple for years.

"We'd have to go back to England," Hermione mentioned to him, watching as his features hardened.

"The entire Wizarding World is going to find out that we're back," he said, unable to hide his distaste. "They'll be vultures, Hermione."

"We'll fly in," she said slowly. "Won't even step foot near the Ministry."

"That won't stop them," he muttered. "You know as well as I do the number of letters they've sent to me, trying to get me to make an appearance at one of their thousand Victory celebrations."

"Well, we're not going anywhere near them," she said gently. "You are under no obligation to bend to the Ministry, okay? It might be nice, though, to go home for a bit," she said. "We could even visit Andy and Teddy. I'm desperately missing the little guy. Their last stay wasn't nearly long enough."

Harry conceded to that, which gave Hermione license to start making plans. There was no immediate timeline on their return, given that schools started at the beginning of the calendar year in Australia. Hermione had time to make decisions, and so did Harry.

Hermione sent a blanket letter back to both Ginny and Ron, explaining to them that she and Harry would be making a trip to England soon, and would be more than happy to meet with them both. The letter gave nothing away but Hermione wasn't going to hide the fact that she and Harry were in the same place, wherever it was that they were.

When Hermione mentioned the impending trip to her mother, Jane wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Do you think it's a good idea?" she asked her daughter.

"I think it's a terrible idea," Hermione admitted. "We both do, really, but it has to be done eventually, right?"

Jane couldn't help but laugh. "The two of you have come a long way, haven't you?"

Hermione nodded. "Together."

Jane agreed. "Together."

A week later, they had their tickets. The week after that, they were on their way back to the country they had inadvertently fled a year earlier. The truth was that neither of them had intended to stay away for so long, but Australia had proved to be the place for them during their recovery from the War.

When they touched down in London, Harry Apparated them to Grimmauld Place. It didn't feel like a home but it was still familiar to them both.

"Think we could try a bed this time around?" Hermione asked, grinning at him.

"For someone who spent the better part of yesterday on a plane, you have quite a bit of energy," Harry pointed out. "Did you take a Pepper Up potion or something?"

"I guess, a part of me is happy to be back," she admitted, making her way to the library. To her, nothing much had changed. She could tell that Kreacher had been by to tidy things up and dust off the cobwebs. She really did miss that old rotten elf.

"Hmm," Harry sounded, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You know, Hermione, we've never really christened Grimmauld Place."

Hermione couldn't ignore the feel of his hot breath against her neck. Really, he knew that she couldn't resist him sometimes. This was one of those times, and Hermione found herself tangled up in the blankets of their famous makeshift bed on the floor of the library.

"It does feel good to be home, doesn't it?" Harry said, absently reaching for her hand and playing with her fingers. He was lying on his side, watching her, as his rate of breathing settled down.

Hermione stared at their hands, and then at her ring. "Should I take it off for when we meet them?" she asked.

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"Then don't."

Hermione let out a long breath. "I should probably let my mother know that we've arrived safely," she said, sitting up. "And you should probably organise some food. I'm starving."

"I love you," he said simply, as he too sat up. "Should I go out and get something or are you keen on seeing Kreacher tonight?"

Hermione spent a moment thinking about it. "Go out," she said, gently touching his bare chest. "I'm not really in the mood to get dressed anyway."

Harry leaned over to kiss her. "Just how I like it."

Hermione just watched as he stood up and got dressed. There was something incredibly simple and easy about living a life with Harry Potter. He knew her so well, and she probably knew him better than he knew himself. They just fit and, now that they were back in England, they were going to have to justify it.

How could she possibly come up with a solid, believable reason as to why she loved Harry the way she did? Unconditionally and wholeheartedly?

It'd probably be easier to come up with reasons why she _didn't_ love him.

Hermione was still on the phone with her mother when Harry returned with their dinner. It was Thai from somewhere several blocks down. She didn't ask. It tasted so good, especially with the chilli sauce. She practically poured it on like it was going out of fashion.

"You'll be complaining in the morning," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a witch, Harry."

Of course, Harry was right, and the two of them spent the morning seeing to Hermione's _condition_. Harry might have wanted to tell her 'I told you so' but she already looked so miserable.

"We can postpone the lunch with Ron and Ginny," Harry offered, as he held her hair away from her face while she vomited for the millionth time.

"No," she said calmly, as she sat back. "I'm okay. The potion should be ready."

Harry merely nodded, before he left her to retrieve said potion. One vial of it later, Hermione was as good as new, beaming at him conspiratorially.

"What?" he asked.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you spiked the food just so I would be too sick to meet them for lunch," she said, eyeing him.

"Good thing you know better then," he muttered. "And plus, there are simpler, less elaborate ways to get out of it. Why would I willingly deal with all of _that_ this morning? I swear we're not having sex for at least a week."

She laughed. "Come on. We've got places to be; people to see."

Once they were ready, Harry Apparated them to Muggle London, where they'd agreed to meet with the two youngest Weasleys. Meeting in the Wizarding World was not an option, and neither was meeting in private.

Harry and Hermione arrived early as planned and found a table near the back of the restaurant, giving them a good vantage point.

"You don't think that they would have told someone we were here, do you?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting about.

Harry cast a quick Notice-Me-Not Charm on them, which he would drop the second they spotted the two redheads. There was no harm in being careful. Harry wanted nothing to do with the Ministry, and they weren't going to take any chances.

"There they are," Hermione said, her hand automatically reaching for his under the table.

When Harry spotted them, he tensed. "I imagine this isn't going to go well," he muttered under his breath and, despite herself, Hermione smiled.

"Shut up and drop the Charm," she said, squeezing his hand.

Harry did as he was told and, in the next sweep across the room, Ron spotted them. Before they reached the table, Harry turned towards Hermione. "I love you," he whispered, just in time.

"Harry, Hermione," Ron called out, getting the attention of more than just the two at the table.

Harry and Hermione both stood up, letting go of each other's hands.

"It's so good to see you, mate," Ron said, pulling Harry into a tight hug. "How have you been? Merlin, you're tanned."

Harry didn't respond as Ron moved his attention on to Hermione, and Ginny greeted him next. She hugged him for a long time and, when she released him, she kissed his cheek. Harry could practically feel Hermione's intake of breath, even though he couldn't hear it.

Once the greetings were over, the four of them sat down. Ginny made sure to sit right beside Harry, her eyes solely on him.

Harry reached for Hermione's hand under the table and she sneaked a look at him but he was looking down at the tabletop.

"So what have you two been up to?" Ron asked, regarding his two best friends curiously.

Hermione sneaked another look at Harry. This time, he was looking at Ron. "Oh, well, we've just been traveling," she said.

"We visited Hermione's parents," Harry added. "All is well with them, by the way."

"So you've just been travelling, huh?" Ginny asked.

"Pretty much," Harry said awkwardly. "But enough about us," he said, clearing his throat. "How are you guys? How's the family?"

"They're good," Ginny responded, her elbows resting on the able. "George and Angelina are going steady," she explained. "Charlie is still habitually single. Bill and Fleur are enjoying being parents. It's been a better year for us."

"Has it?" Harry asked under his breath, dropping his head. He didn't _want_ to feel sour about everything that had happened, but he just couldn't help it.

"Oh, mate, don't be like that," Ron said, grinning at his friend.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand, calming him. Harry felt anything but calm, but he didn't say anything more in that moment.

Ron looked at Hermione. "Say, Hermione, I was wondering if you and I could talk?"

"We're talking," Hermione said.

"Alone."

Ginny picked up the thread. "Yes, Harry, I think the two of us should talk as well."

"We're talking," Harry said, echoing Hermione.

"Alone."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. "Look," Hermione said to both redheads. "Whatever either of you need to say either of us, just say it. Harry and I don't keep secrets from each other."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"What did you expect?" Harry asked, growling slightly. "We've only had each other, haven't we?"

"Harry!" Ginny said, her eyes widening. "What's gotten into you?"

Harry turned his head towards her. He had a nasty remark on the tip of his tongue, but Hermione stopped him by releasing his hand and running her fingers through his hair, knowing that it work.

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly.

Ron just stared at them, his eyes darting from witch to wizard. "What is going on here?"

Hermione dropped her hand. "I suppose this is as good a time as any," Hermione said, her eyes drifting between the two siblings. Whenever Hermione got into Hermione-mode, she started to talk with her hands, and this time was no different. "The thing is, you see, Harry and I, we're -"

"Engaged!" Ginny shrieked.

Hermione froze. "What?"

Ginny zeroed in on Hermione's left hand. "You have a ring on your finger," Ginny said. "You're engaged?"

Ron's eyes widened. "To _Harry_?"

Hermione managed a smile. "Surprise," she said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Surprise?" Ron echoed, only louder.

Several heads turned their way, and Harry had the wherewithal to cast several Charms to make sure that nobody could hear them or even notice them.

"What the hell is this?" Ron asked, his voice rising. "Tell me this is all some sick joke!"

"It's not a joke, Ron," Hermione said calmly, but Harry could hear the twitch of annoyance in her tone. "Harry and I, we're together, and we're getting married."

Ron turned his stare towards Harry. "Are you serious? You and Hermione?"

Harry didn't respond to him.

"So, what?" Ron continued, getting angrier. "While the rest of us were here grieving for our _families_ ; the two of you were out there, galavanting all over the country and what? Falling _in love_?" He looked a bit disgusted.

Harry had anger enough to match Ron's, but Hermione's hand now gripping his thigh tightly stopped him from saying a word.

"I lost everything," Ron yelled; "and, what, you get the girl, huh? Of course Harry Potter would get everything handed to him!"

Harry sat back, taking deep breaths. He was surprised by how quiet Ginny was being but, then again, he imagined that this was quite a bit to digest. Of course though, unlike her brother, she didn't allow her mouth to run off without her logic.

Hermione took her own calming breath. "Listen to yourself," she said to Ron. "You lost _everything_? Since when do we go around comparing loss, Ronald?"

"We do it because of _him_!" Ron yelled, pointing at Harry. "How are the rest of us even supposed to compare? How does Fred compare to everyone the Boy-Who-Lived has lost?"

Harry stood up quite suddenly. "I don't have to listen to this," he said sharply. "You want to compare loss, Ron, then fine. Fine. You lost your brother, and I'm deeply sorry. If you think you deserve Hermione because something was taken from you, then you know nothing about life and love, or even about Hermione. I'm sorry you're so damn angry, but I did not come here for this.

"You threw us out like we were _nothing_ ," he hissed. "You made it perfectly clear that we weren't wanted. What did you expect us to do? Just sit around and wait around while you grieved with you _family?_ " Harry let out a bitter laugh. "We mourned on our own, and we moved on the only way we knew how. _Together_. I owe you no apologies and I owe you no explanations."

"Nobody expected _this_ ," Ron hissed back.

"We didn't plan it," Hermione said, also standing up. "It just happened." Which was only part of the truth. Hermione had a feeling that both she and Harry left the Burrow that day, knowing that there would never be anyone else for either of them.

Ron stood up as well, not wanting to be the only one to be sitting. Ginny wasn't even involved in the conversation. "I'm sure it did," Ron said angrily, his eyes on Harry. "I bet you couldn't wait to get her alone, huh? It probably burned you that she was interested in me first. How does it feel to know you've had Ron Weasley's seconds?"

Before Harry could respond, Hermione lifted her hand and slapped the redhead across the face.

Everyone was shocked by it.

"Don't you dare," Hermione growled, her eyes glaring and her magic flaring. "I am not your _seconds_ , Ronald Weasley! You have no claim on me. We kissed _once_ , for Merlin's sake. And then you let me _leave_ , and I don't hear from you for more than year!

"You have a problem with this, that's on you," she said hotly, even though she tried to calm down. "We're not going to sit here and be punching bags for your displaced anger. I love Harry and he loves me. We're together; we're going to get married whether you like it not. And, frankly, at this point, I don't quite care what you think.

"I mean, Merlin, Ron, _you_ wrote to us. You _finally_ wrote to us, and this is it? What did you want from us? What did you expect, in all honesty? Did you really thing we'd just come running, as if we were things you could just cast aside when you didn't need us, and then call us back and expect nothing to have changed?"

Ron said nothing.

Hermione took hold of Harry's hand. "You're right, Harry," she said. "We don't have to listen to this."

With that, the two of them left the restaurant, hand-in-hand, without even looking back. They had made it onto the sidewalk when someone called both their names.

It was Ginny.

Harry and Hermione turned to see the youngest Weasley running up to them.

"I get it," she said, coming to a stop about a metre away from them. "I mean, I don't like it, but I get it." She took a step back. "I guess, umm, I'm not really shocked. You guys have always been quite, umm, close, and I, umm, am, well, I guess I'm happy for you."

"You are?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Ginny nodded. "I am."

"But why?" Hermione asked.

"I imagine that you make each other happy."

Hermione couldn't help her smile, and Harry grinned.

"What?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Nothing," they said at the same time.

Ginny blinked. "See what I mean," she said, shrugging slightly. "And I'm sorry about Ron."

Harry and Hermione said nothing.

"I'm also sorry about the way we treated you both," she added, dropping her gaze. "You didn't deserve that."

Neither of them knew what to say to her and, thankfully, she didn't expect a response.

"I just thought that I would tell you," Ginny said. "It'll take some time but everyone will get over it. As long as you're both happy."

"We are," they said at the same time.

"It's like a circus act," Ginny said, laughing. "I should probably head back and make sure that Ron hasn't killed anyone."

"Thank you, Ginny," Harry said. "We really appreciate your understanding."

Ginny nodded once, and then she turned around and walked away while Harry and Hermione watched in a bit of a daze.

"It's more than I expected," Hermione said, turning and starting them on their walk again. She slipped her arm through his and leaned into him. "And _less_ , all at the same time."

"I'm sorry about the things he said," Harry said sadly.

"I am too," Hermione said.

"It's been quite the trip home, hasn't it?"

"It can only get better from here."

Harry shifted their positions and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I imagine it can't get worse."

"There you go again," she said, shaking her head. "Honestly, couldn't you have left your imagination in Australia?"

Harry kissed her temple. "You weren't complaining about my imagination last week," he teased.

Hermione blushed. "Oh hush."

He laughed. "We didn't actually eat lunch, you know? Are you hungry?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Thai."

She groaned. "I can't even say that I'm surprised by that," she said. "Sometimes you're so predictable."

"You weren't saying that last week," he teased again.

"You're really hung up on last week, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Well, it's a good thing that we're not having sex for a week, right?"

"Right," he muttered.

Hermione giggled. "Do you want to go home?"

Harry nodded.

"So you can use your unpredictable imagination on me?"

"It doesn't sound so great when you say it like that," he said, pouting.

"Food first," she said.

"Pizza?"

"Soup."

He grinned at her. "The tummy's still not right?"

"I just feel like soup," she said coyly. "Maybe a takeaway?"

Harry squeezed her shoulders. "You just want me, don't you?"

"You are the only one I will ever want," she said, her arm snaking around his waist as she looked up at him. "We're getting married, Harry."

"I guess now we can pick a date," he offered. "We've told them, even though we haven't really. There's nothing holding us back now."

"Is that what you think was making us drag our feet?"

"We've been engaged for five months, Hermione."

"So then let's get married," she said simply.

"What?"

"Let's get married."

"Right now?"

"Why not?"

Harry coughed, too surprised to form words. "Umm?"

"We should get married, Harry. Right now."

"We can't."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Your parents aren't even here," he said. "How am I supposed to give you the wedding you deserve in half a day? And, if we get married, we'd be breaking your mother's heart."

"So you don't want to get married?"

"Hey, twisty, stop with the bold statements," he muttered. "You know as well as I do that I want to marry you," he said seriously; "Just not like this."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Hermione kissed his cheek. "Why are you always so surprised when I agree with you?"

"Do I really have to respond to that? I'm in the interest of staying in this relationship, thank you very much."

"Wise man."

Harry was grinning at her. "Just trying to keep up with my wise woman."

"She's demanding, is she?"

"Who said that?"

She laughed. "The man I'm going to marry."

"I thought you were smarter than that, Miss Granger," he said, nudging her gently with his hip. "I think it's time you got rid of him.

"I would," she said; "but the thing is that I'm kind of in love with him. What's a girl to do?"

"I'm the wrong person to ask," he said seriously. "I'm a little biased, you know? I have invested interest in your happiness."

"Is that so?"

Harry kissed her temple, absently breathing her in. "I love you."

"I love you too, Harry Potter."

Harry used the brief break of conversation to steer them towards a quaint sandwich shop. Hermione perused the many wall hangings while Harry ordered for them, specifying that it was to-go.

Hermione didn't ask him where they were going but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be back to Grimmauld Place.

She was not mistaken.

To her genuine surprise, Harry Apparated them to _their_ clearing in the Forest of Dean. He busied himself with setting up a small picnic area for them while Hermione spent her time remembering all that had happened in this magical place.

At some point, Harry reached for her hand and led her over to the small blanket he'd spread out of the ground. They sat together, enjoying the sounds and the smells - and the silence.

"I want us to get married here," Harry said as if it were some sort of declaration.

"Here?"

He nodded. "I remember it being the first place you ever considered spending the rest of your life with only me, and I want it to be the place where that becomes a reality."

Hermione abandoned her food and drink and practically flung herself at him, immediately peppering his face with kisses enough to draw a _giggle_ from him.

"Hermione," he protested as he fell back and she climbed on top of him.

She silenced him by kissing him on the mouth. He tasted like tikka chicken and avocado and he smelt like warmth. Hermione couldn't really explain it but, just the smell of him, made her feel safe. Especially in this place that had kept them hidden from the world's dangers.

"Hermione," he said, sounding breathless as he gently pushed her up.

Groaning in protest, Hermione sat up, straddling him, and looked down at him. "Harry, you can't just make declarations like that and not expect me to react."

Harry didn't respond.

"Are you being serious though?"

"Deathly."

"Well well well, Harry Potter," she said, her palms splayed on his chest. "I didn't know you were so sentimental."

"I promise to spend my life continuing to surprise you."

"Are you going to put that in your vows?"

His eyes widened, his hands resting on her thighs. "We have to write our own vows?"

"Oh definitely."

He grinned at her. "You're going to regret saying that."

"Why?"

His smile never faltered.

"Why, Harry?" she asked again, shifting on top of him. "What do you have planned?"

"I imagine that you'll be pleasantly surprised by what I have to say."

She shook her head as she rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, how could I forget? Harry Potter and his unpredictable imagination."

Harry wasted no time in switching their positions so that Hermione was now pinned beneath him. She looked a little flustered, which just made him smile. "Complain all you want, Hermione," he said, dipping his head to kiss her. "This is it for both of us."

"I imagine it is."

And when Harry proceeded to kiss her again - and possibly do other things to her - Hermione vowed never again to complain about his imagination.

 _Fin_


End file.
